Colors and Numbers
by MysticOctave
Summary: Isabella, an artist living with anger and hurt, could paint all the colors of the wind and hack all the codes of the virtual world.    Edward, a tormented man who fought his own battles, and a genius who at a young age became a CEO.     They meet, but will their chaos unite or separate them? Warning: Angst and Dark themes, it's rated M for many reasons...
1. Prologue - Gray

_Disclaimer: Only one writer is making the money off Twilight,__ and that's Stephenie Meyer. These are her characters, and I'm just having fun with them while adding some colors and numbers._

* * *

~ CϽN ~

**Colors and Numbers – Prologue – Gray**

"Genius and virtue are to be more often found clothed in gray than in peacock bright." – Van Wyck Brooks

~ CϽN ~

They say life isn't like a Rubik's Cube, but for her it is. She sees life like a big canvas where there are countless numbers of wrong twists and turns. She can't get it right; it doesn't look perfect no matter what way you look at it. They say life is everything but colors and numbers, but for her it is.

Tonight was like any other night for her: a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon wine, a white canvas and her oil paint tubes in the glass room that she had turned into her personal world, her atelier.

Despite the fact that she began her night just like the others in the past, this night was different… it was a night for gray; gray for all that she used to hold dear, gray for her past, gray for her parents and her friendships, gray for feelings and for losses, gray for her paths, gray for her failures and her victories, gray for her passions that she had lost on the way… All her feelings were a combination of gray, neutral and mild.

Thus, tonight, she created her shades of gray on her palette, and caressed onto her canvas all the shadows that surrounds her. A horizon filled with the numbers in her head, rows and rows of ones and zeros, binary numeral systems creating the outlines of the chaos in her head.

~ ϽCN ~

When her last brush stroke touched the canvas, dawn had already broken. As usual, and like any other night, time had passed and she had lost track of it. Sleep, per her typical routine, had been forgotten. With a last glance at the painting, which was an incarnation of the chaos of her mental storms, she left the place that she called hers and went to her room.

~ CϽN ~

On the nightstand her iPhone was buzzing, begging her to check it: 4:56 am, three text messages, twelve missed calls, and two voicemails.

_Well, hello there, outside world._

Checking the cell more carefully, she looked at the details on the screen, shock coloring her senses. Most of them were from Jasper, a childhood friend that she hadn't heard from for a while now, asking her to call him as soon as possible. She did.

By the third ring he answered, his voice thick with sleep, "Swan? Don't you ever sleep?"

"Well, hello to you too, cowboy. So much for telling me to call as soon as possible."

A hushed-high pitched female voice murmured on his side of the line before he answered. "Swan, darlin'. You never change. Why didn't you answer before?"

"I was busy, smart ass," grumbled Bella, rolling her eyes. "Is everything all right? You scared me with your gazillion messages!"

"No, everything's good." He hesitated. "I just- well... I need a favor, darlin'," he murmured, sounding ashamed.

"Sure, Jasper, anything for you… shoot."

"No, before you agree, you need to listen first," he warned her, which confused her for a second, feeding her impatience.

"Okay... Come on, shoot. You know how I hate people beating around the bush."

"I need you to get through a system," he said with emphasis.

Her pulse grew rapid with his statement.

"Before you say no, please hear me out. Alice's brother is a CEO. His company's computer server is being hacked. And it _is_ secured, so no one understands how someone is pulling off this shit. We were talking about it the other day, and I kind of let it slip that I know someone who is a genius at hacking into systems. So he told me that 'unless you know _Isabella Swan_, then you don't know a computer genius'. I also let it slip that it's you I know. Turns out they have been trying to get hold of you for a while, but for obvious reasons, they've found out nothing about you, no phone number or anything else. So my intervention was required. I am truly sorry, Bella, but I really need you to do this for him before he goes crazy," he explained the evidence quickly, knowing the effect the subject had on her.

"Jasper… I-"

"Isabella, please…"

"Which firm?" she muttered.

"Masen-Cullen Holdings Inc."

"Jasper, I abandoned hacking a long time ago. You know that," she told him coldly, hiding her anger.

"I am aware of that, Bella. But it's _me_ asking. You know I'd do anything you ask me to. And if you agree, I'd owe you big time, I swear. Just please do this for my sake, just once."

"Jasper, I need to think about this..." her confidence was long forgotten.

"We have no time, darlin'… Just please do this for me, I'm begging here."

"Hell, Jasper!" she said after a quiet pause, rubbing her eyes. "Okay, send me the address, I'll text you and tell you what time I can be there. Let your friend know about the conditions, _all of them_. Tell him I need access to the main system where all the records are being held. I need a quiet room and someone who knows about the records. Tell him I will secure his system perfectly, but make it clear it is a one-time thing. I will also need a list of the companies that he suspects are behind the hackings so I can get through their systems and teach them a good lesson."

"Thank you, Bella. I owe you."

"I know you do. Now send me the address and make sure you do everything I asked, Jasper, especially the conditions. I don't do bullshit and you know that," she said, her confidence obviously growing again.

"Will do, Bella. Take care," he ended calmly.

With that, she headed for her shower, her gray past following her there.

~ ϽCN ~

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**A/N: Reviews add colors on Bella's palette!****  
**


	2. Chapter 1 - Crimson

_Disclaimer: Only one writer is making the money off Twilight, and that's Stephenie Meyer. These are her characters, and I'm just having fun with them while adding some colors and numbers._

* * *

~ ϽCN ~

**Colors and Numbers - Chapter 1 - Crimson**

"Beauty's ensign yet

Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,

And death's pale flag is not advanced there." – William Shakespeare

~ ϽCN ~

Sitting in front of the mirror in her room, her eyes were focused on the woman looking back at her. She did not recognize herself anymore. Her black hair fell in a cascade on her shoulders, framing a pale face; one that no longer held any colors or emotions. Blank, just like the gray she had painted earlier.

Pale face, pale hands… pale skin. Her cheeks held no colors anymore, that crimson tint that used to accompany her wherever she went no longer exists. She felt as if the crimson that used to flow through her body was hardened in her veins, transforming her to a corps shaped by stiffness and emptiness brought by a psychological rigamortis.

While her gaze roamed her features, she realized her eyes brought a whole new level to the being that she had become. They were mahogany circled with golden amber, but they were no longer passionate. They were simply colors, nothing but empty colors, revealing all the things she left behind while drawing her path in this life, exposing her in the weakest ways.

_What have I become? _she thought, holding guilt and pity toward herself._ What have I done to that woman inside me? Where has she gone?_

She felt the familiar lump forming in her throat, but she held it there, refusing to shed tears over what she'd become, because to her, it was simple; what she had become didn't deserve any emotion.

~ ϽCN ~

She opened the familiar golden tube. Light flickered on its surface, shattering the world away into a shower of crystalline shards of the prism that had once defined the colors of her life, infinite combinations of shade and hue. Twisting it, she saw the red stick slowly appear. She drew it closer to her lips and painted them crimson. Fury and passion blended together to show the world a confident aura; an act hiding her true colors.

Now, that crimson held her anger, her madness against words that turned out to be empty. It held the storm that had tormented her for seven years, ever since she was a sixteen-year-old who was unlike other teenagers. Also, it held her manic rage against numbers that forgot her, as well her irrevocable passion for the pandemonium that became her daily shadow.

Satisfied with the deep shade of her lips, she made her way out of the room. With a last glance, she saw it. The black silk dress, ending half way on her thighs, was hugging the curves of her petite figure. High heeled stilettos emphasized her pale legs which, added to her black hair and crimson lips, screamed power - domination. All this created a perfect façade for the outside world. She realized then what a shell she had become, one wrapped in the mesmerizing veil of power.

Grabbing her purse and her messenger bag, she made her way out.

~ ϽCN ~

She drove her Aston Martin Vanquish, drowning her fears and mental battles while roaming the streets, feeling the Seattle morning winds calming and sedating her inner battles.

Pressing on the accelerator, she increased her speed and felt all her nerves come to life. With her body pressed into the seat, adrenaline rushed through her, the substance that came with velocity and fear. It stroked her awareness, bringing her to the edge of a cliff where she must jump and forget about everything except what she wanted, so she could grow her own wings and soar above all the darkness that oozed into her existence.

And jump, she will.

Again, time flew by. She didn't even remember entering the garage of the enterprise or going through the whole gate-security upon entry. Again, she blacked out, coloring the fact that she didn't deserve this life anymore because she no longer enjoyed and no longer felt or realized what was happening to her. She was just riding her way on auto-pilot. She was just being…

8:47a.m.…Too early, she thought, shaking her head and letting her hair caress her face as she parked at the far end of the garage. She turned the engine off, and with it she quieted all the voices in her head.

Rummaging through her purse, she got a hold of her nicotine packet and lit one, feeling the burn that accompanied her bad habit. Tilting her head back, she exhaled, exhaling her feelings and her colors with it. She allowed the numbers in her head to soothe her; numbers she once promised herself to use differently. Today her promise would turn out empty, since she chose her friend's - her brother figure's - image over hers. Thus, her words and all the vows she made to others and herself became empty. The vows were supposed to keep her a lifetime away from her binary numeral systems, but all this had been forgotten the second a dear person asked for her help, because no matter how forsaken she let herself become, she'd never abandoned her respect and loyalty for those who had been beside her when her life decided to take the dark turn.

And so today, the past that had long ago followed her made his presence crystal clear. Crimson clear.

~ ϽCN ~

"Hello, do you have an appointment?" the redhead behind the reception desk asked as soon as she felt a presence, without even lifting her eyes from the screen.

"If you treat all your guests that way, then by all means, continue. I'm Isabella Swan," she shot.

Recognition filled the redhead's mind as her eyes grew wide. "I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect you, Ms. Swan. Please have a seat, and someone will be with you shortly," she stuttered.

Without a second look, the black-haired beauty made her way to the couch in the lobby, but before she even reached it, she heard her name being called.

"Hello, Ms. Swan. I'm Rosalie Hale, and I will be assisting you today," greeted a blonde woman with a friendly, but tight smile.

"Thank you, Ms. Hale. Please lead the way," she requested coldly.

With that the two women entered a wide office where the sunlight played with the vividness of the room, creating a warm and relaxing aura.

"I hope Jasper told you about my work conditions. I don't do bullshit here, Ms. Hale," drew Bella assertively.

A smile crept its way onto Rosalie's face_. I like this woman already, s_he thought.  
"Please, call me Rosalie. And he sure did. Your work's expenses are in this envelope. And we do not bullshit either."

"That's what I want to hear, Rosalie," said Bella, smiling warmly.

Grinning, Rosalie walked around the desk and placed a file on the table. "You can take your seat at the desk, Ms. Swan. You'll find all the information that you requested organized next to the main system. All the codes are there, too. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I like you already, Rosalie." The black haired woman smiled back, smugness distorting her voice. "Call me Bella. And yes, a coffee will do. I'll get started straight away."

"Sure, Bella."

As soon as Rosalie left, Bella took her place behind the desk. She reached for her Mac Book from her messenger bag and started it, placing it next to the firm's laptop on the desk. With a USB wire, she connected them both to a third device, a device that she had built that held some ultimately illegal software that was her creation and that could get through any system and intrude on any privacy. And so, just like the old times, her hand flew on the keyboards, the familiar clicking drowning all her thoughts.

~ ϽCN ~

_Secured my ass, _she thought, decoding all the strings in the service. Rows and rows of ones and zeroes filled the screen. Green on black background; she found herself there, in this virtual world. And so, she got lost between her numbers and equations, the roots defining her and adding shades to her colors. The virtual world brought a spark to her sight and a cocky grin on her lips; that world built all her confidence back within seconds.

Any outsider would have seen the difference in her demeanor. Her stiffness was soothed, her emptiness filled, the spark in her eyes was back and highlighted by the fluorescent green reflection of the numbers on the screen.

"Here's your coffee, Bella," said Rosalie when she entered the room again.

"Thank you," typing away and never looking up from the screen. "Please, I need some space; you may come back in at least six hours."

She wanted to be alone in her virtual world. Getting acquainted with her long lost loves was her only goal now.

"Absolutely, take your time."

~ ϽCN ~

Decoding the system took her half the time others would have spent on that same process. She started building virtual walls from scratch, protecting and enlacing the firm's projects, archives, and data.

_That was fast, I didn't lose my light touch, s_he told herself as she saw all the numbers winking back at her, calling her, asking her where she had been and why she left them out of the blue, pouting and showing their puppy dog eyes. They were seducing her, luring her to never leave them again, e_ver_, because in this unrealistic land, she was the queen. She knew every path, every turn and every corner. And right now, she was back on scene, back to the territories where she understood the laws and the reaction to every action. It was a whole new but familiar space that she never tired of exploring, or even expanding.

While discovering the little hidden odds in the binary systems, she was able to follow a road-like path, leading her to the service of the people who intruded on this firm's data. Just like a lost boy looking for his momma, she dug through numbers, searching for all the strings that she could grasp to teach those bastards a good lesson.

~ ϽCN ~

"I was able to track the paths of the party that got through the Cullen system, and all of them brought me to Nomad Enterprise. Does it ring any bells? I am sure it should be high on your list of suspects, a list that I didn't find in this sweet pile that you gave me," said Bella, her mind rushing through the numbers, counting again and again in her head.

"Shit!" gasped Rosalie, her fingers covering her lips. She started babbling, rushing out of the room. "God, where did I put it? I must have left it in the other office. Let me go-"

"It's all right, Rosalie," interjected Bella, a smile shaping her lips, amused by the woman's loss of her composed mask. "Relax… Just tell me about this Nomad Enterprise."

"Oh, okay." She ran her hand through her hair, trying to collect herself. "It's a trading firm. Its CEO, James Cox, is one of Edward's first enemies."

"Edward?" inquired Bella, her brows knitted.

"Yes, Edward Cullen, CEO and owner of our multinational firm! What, Bella, you didn't know that?" teased the blonde, bemused.

"No, the CEO doesn't interest me, his system does," mumbled Bella, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, soft red creeping its way to her cheeks. "Anyways," she emphasized, biting her lips. "Right now I'm hacking through this Nomad system. You can stay if you'd like to, Rosalie," stated Bella, smiling kindly.

"You don't mind?" asked Rosalie, her brows shooting up to her hairline.

"Hell no, babe," said Bella, laughing at Rosalie's reaction. "Just make yourself comfortable, I'd like some company for a change."

"Yeah, sure!" She sat on the beige fauteuil in front of Bella.

Exchanging pleasantries, they both seemed to be two tough women who shared more in common than they thought they would. Conversation seemed easy, increasing the positive aura around them. The office was decorated in a Zen yet modern way. Behind Bella was a glass wall disguised as a window, giving a serene view of the city. Cadmium green walls embraced the room. In front of her was the door from which she entered, wooden and large, closed, giving her the privacy that she sought for in this kind of work. In a corner next to a floor to ceiling bookcase were two tan leather couches forming a small sitting area. But what had held Bella's attention, ever since she had stepped into this place, was the great number of bamboo plants embellishing the atmosphere, and strangely bringing some peace to the woman's mind.

"This is a relaxing office. Is it yours?" she inquired, relaxing in her seat.

"Yeah," replied Rosalie, crossing her legs and sipping her coffee. "The atmosphere makes me really productive, you know? Pushes me to come here even when I'm in no mood to work."

"I can feel it," whispered Bella, lips pursed, distracted and engrossed by the numbers appearing on the screen.

Discovering what the numbers hid and the information they disguised, she exclaimed "Fucking hell!"

"What?!" squealed Rosalie, suddenly on her feet.

"I'm finding some deep shit here! This Nomad corporation marked its traces stupidly into your system," stated Bella smugly, chewing on her lip. "Trust me when I tell you that your security level was nothing near high enough to protect such an organization. This firm holds a lot of archive, so I can tell that it's a highly important and ranked organization," she explained, locking eyes with an attentive Rosalie. "But, compared to the virtual security that you have, I'm truly saddened to tell you that a professional hacker, who knows his numbers decently, can easily get through it."

"I didn't know it was this serious; people are paid fortunes to keep our system perfectly secured."

"Well, you obviously weren't working with the best," teased Bella, winking at Rosalie. Her fingers had never stopped their tango on the keyboard.

"Well, I guess you're right…"

"I know I am… Anyways, solving the problem will take around an hour. I won't be that talkative, so if you want to leave, I don't mind," offered Bella, chewing on her lip, eyes locked on the screen.

"Yeah, sure," she replied, standing up and smoothing her navy blue pencil skirt. "I'm going to let Edward know about all this... uh… chaos." _And he's not going to like it, _she added to herself as she made her way out of the room, giving Bella the space that she needed.

~ ϽCN ~

"Our problem is solved now. I entered the Nomad archive and permanently deleted all the things that were stolen from this enterprise. I also might have stolen a couple of high-ranked projects that might interest you. I deleted other stuff, too, just to teach these fuckers a lesson, because you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat," said Bella, a smirk gracing her lips.

"Wow, all that in such a limited time?" Disbelief touched Rosalie's features as she sat in front of Bella.

"Well, yes, I am Isabella Swan. Haven't you heard that this is a piece of cake for me?" asked Bella sarcastically, her voice empty as she chewed on her lip.

"I've heard that, but it's another thing to experience it."

"Yeah, yeah... I've heard that before. And I don't feel like chit-chatting about my 'godly talent'."

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…" trailed Rosalie, sensing Bella's mood change.

"It's all right. I just need, maybe, eleven more minutes to finish all this. Can you please get me the videos ready?"

"What videos?" asked Rosalie, perplexed.

With two words, two simple words, Rosalie turned Bella's mental state upside down. Crimson crept across Bella's skin, her pulse racing, an angry red and not the soft one from earlier. And just like that, the numbers were long forgotten, and she was brought back to that day, the day long before her vows and promises.

~ ϽCN ~

_"It is your entire fucking fault, you little bitch! All this is because of you! You repulse the hell out of me, you disgust me! And god help me_, _or I _will_ throw you in an asylum where you can go fuck the crap out of your pretty numbers and your illegal doings that you call _talent,_" sneered the woman._

"_Maman, I didn't mean to do that, maman, _s'il te plait_, look-"she pleaded, clinging to her mother's arm._

_"I can't even bring my eyes to look at you; you are such a waste of skin, Isabella. I regret the day you became a live in," spat the woman, shaking her arm free from her daughter's hold._

_"Maman… I just forgot to get the videos," croaked the young brunette._

_"What videos, you delusional slut? And don't you dare _maman _me, I am everything but your mother. With a brain like yours, you can truly make a difference, but instead you choose to whore yourself out there. Well, enjoy your life then. I am out of it. You are no longer the girl that I held in my womb for nine months; you are nothing to me."_

_"Maman, s'il te plait listen, we are in danger-"_

_"Keep living in your silly number-fantasy world. Consider me out of it," shot the woman._

~ CϽN ~

"My first condition, Ms. Hale: when I enter a place, it's as if I didn't enter it," declared Bella, coldly crossing her arms. "To the outside world, I shouldn't exist, so I _need_ the videos of the reception area leading to this office. I'm sure an organization this big has security cameras everywhere, and I need them not to have fun watching them, but to destroy them," Bella said, completely serious, looking Rosalie straight in the eye.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know that. Edward never told me that. Please let me go check with him. I'll be right back. Please continue with whatever you want to do," Rosalie shot back, trying to hide her shock while she walked out of the office.

~ ϽCN ~

Fourteen minutes passed. Bella had finished her work and packed everything, leaving notes for where to find the Nomad archives on the main private system. She paced back and forth in the wide office that was now suffocating her, strangling the few emotions and few nerves that were left in her, and the little amount of self-assurance she now had.

The envelope holding the ten hundred grand she'd requested was held between her gloved covered fingers, her knuckles turning white from holding it too tight.

Back and forth as she paced across the wooden floor, her heels echoing through the calmness of the room. Chewing on her nails, she kept reciting her numbers _1001011010011011101, _trying to quiet herself. She never allowed a burst of emotion, ever. _11011001010111010001._

_I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have broken my promise to myself. I. Shouldn't. Have._

_But you did. You broke your own promise._

_But it was for Jazz that I did this._

_And where is Jazz when you need him?_

The room around her started to spin, colors blending together, creating a shade of black she had never come across before. The darkness started consuming her, swallowing her, wrapping its hands around her pale neck and squeezing the life out of her.

Standing there in the middle of the colorless space, her eyes turned blank. Her mind shut down. Yes, her limits came to an end, her calmness disappeared into oblivion.

And she was alone.

~ CϽN ~

Suddenly, the door opened, and a blanched Rosalie entered the office.

"Well, you made me wait. I hope it's for a good cause, Ms. Hale," Bella said harshly.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but-"

"Ms. Swan," she corrected. "And you better not say what I don't want to hear."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Swan, but Mr. Cullen was never notified about this condition, and he doesn't agree to hand you the tapes. He says it's violating the enterprise's privacy _and_ security."

_Fucking stupid Jasper._

Bella saw crimson. Her calmness long forgotten, deep red colored the air and her vision. Two words kept echoing in her head, two words that every human longs to have, two words that destroyed her years ago. _Privacy_ and _security._

"Listen, _Ms. Hale,_ and listen _well_," emphasized Bella, tapping her foot. "I got through this system and built a security service that I can get through in less than ten seconds. I can destroy this firm, and I _will _do it if I have to. What I did right here is against the law, and we both know it. I can also make a scandal out of it, and I don't mind facing the law anymore since I have absolutely nothing to lose. You'll do as I ask, or trust me, I'll enter the system and delete all your data, and I might also publish it in a public state to all the other holdings to have. I'll allow all hell to break loose."

Rosalie stepped back, fear clawing through her body from the fury she faced, but she quickly regained her stern composure.

"I'm afraid I can't provide the tapes, Ms. Swan."

"Lead the way to your CEO's office, Ms. Hale," demanded Bella coolly.

"But-"

"I said it _crimson_ clear, Ms. Hale. Lead the fucking way to _his _office."

~ CϽN ~

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**A/N: Review and tell me what you think! ^^  
**


	3. Chapter 2 - Ivory

_Disclaimer: Only one writer is making the money off Twilight, and that's Stephenie Meyer. These are her characters, and I'm just having fun with them while adding some colors and numbers._

* * *

~ CϽN ~

**Colors and Numbers – Chapter 2 – Ivory**

"Acknowledging that crime happens in the Ivory Tower is really tough for them."  
– Catherine Bath

~ ϽCN ~

Every now and then, time seemed to drag on forever for him, as if his existence was moving in slow motion. But in other moments, it seemed to be so fluid, rapid events popping out of the blue, devastating everything to a point where even his hyper-sensitive senses couldn't grasp what was happening.

Years had passed since that ill-fated time and the events that built the man he had become.

The clock ticked and the days became nights. Seasons changed and calendars expired, but he persisted unaltered through everything. He manufactured his own tower of ivory and steel, a tower that protected and separated him from the outside world.

He was Edward Anthony Cullen, a mastermind in mechanical engineering and economics. A man who was the brainiest when it came to discovering how complex mechanisms work and expanding new ones. And so, with his brilliance and creativity, he was now the wealthiest young CEO in the globalized society.

To the world, he was Edward Cullen, an MIT graduate that stood out amongst others, one of the most powerful men on earth, but to him, all of the money and glory were just the tools to his ivory tower – no – _towers_.

~ϽCN~

"No!" he cried out, agonized, as he woke up panting from his nightmare. He lay back in his bed; hands pressed over his eyes, as if they'd rub the torturous visions away, and willed them to fade to dust.

But the images persisted, engraved in his soul like a metal stake driven deep into his psyche.

He checked his phone – _3:53am. Well_, _I guess I am not getting anymore sleep today, _he thought. He made his way robotically to his bathroom, dragging his feet as if what he had just experienced physically marked him.

In the shower, the cold water cascaded down his muscled back, tranquilizing him in the most painful of ways, leaving goose bumps in its path.

He denied himself warmth a long time ago, letting go of all that heated his soul because for him, warmth was for the naive and the weak who sought feelings and passions. He was everything but feeble. He was a man of power, whose force lay in his emotionless state, in his ability to wear the ultimate mask of ivory and steel.

He placed his hands on the wall in front of him and leaned forward, dipping his head and feeling each water drop traveling down his skin. It washed away the sweat that resulted from his nighttime visions, purifying him from all the chaos he'd caused.

It was in such moments he would lose track of time and find himself trapped in his own personal Hell. In a time when he strayed in a universe which had placed him in a deplorable state of torment and misery, making him feel nothing but sorrowful spasms.

Suddenly, he was no longer numb to the cold water drops traveling down his body. They registered in his mind as claws burning his skin, shocking him into regaining his senses. He lifted his head and his gaze roamed around him, registering where he was.

~ϽCN~

Standing in front of the mirror of the dressing room, his eyes focused on the man who looked back at him. He _saw_ his invisible armor rebuild itself, stripping him of all his emotions. It was as if his daily life was a masquerade, one where his mask was the one that held all the strength and manipulation, but that masquerade was no longer separated from his complex existence. They had become one.

The mirrored man was dressed in a black Armani suit, a gray shirt and an onyx tie. So with no last glance, he left the room and went to his dresser, checking the time on his phone. _6am, where did the time slip?_

Placing his phone and his wallet in his pocket, he walked slowly downstairs.

"Good morning, Mr. Cullen," greeted the tall muscled man standing beside the stairs.

"'Morning, Garrett, please prepare the car. I'm leaving early today," responded Edward, dismissing the head of his security.

He entered the sun room; as usual, his coffee was placed on the table beside the three daily newspapers.

His iPhone rang while he was sipping on his coffee and checking his e-mail inbox.

"Hello, Jasper," he greeted, running his hand through his wild auburn hair.

"Good morning, Edward. I have some good news."

"Shoot."

"I called Isabella Swan, and she said that she's willing to help you with whatever problem your computer system is facing."

"That's interesting," mused Edward rubbing his chin.

"Yeah, she'll be at the Seattle building at 9am. But there are some conditions she imposes when she does this work, Edward," trailed the young man.

"All right, tell me about them. I'm sure we can provide whatever she needs."

"Okay, so she needs access to the main system where all the records are being held. She also needs a quiet office and someone who knows about the records."

"That's easy. Rosalie will assist her."

"Okay, sounds good. And Edward, I've known Bella ever since we were in elementary school, so trust me when I tell you that bullshit isn't on her list. She's a woman who knows her path, and she expects people to stick to her rules. She insisted on this being a one-time thing. She'll do whatever she can to help you. But, as you noticed, she can't allow herself to be caught doing what she does. So-"

"I understand that, Jasper, and you don't need to go further. She will be treated with respect and word won't be allowed to travel around about her coming to the building. It will be as if she had never been in there," stated Edward firmly.

"Okay, then we're all on the same page."

"We sure are, Jasper. I really appreciate what you did. I know it wasn't a piece of cake for you."

"You're right, man." He chuckled.

"All right, tell Alice that I'll see her this weekend."

~ϽCN~

He entered the building, emanating dominance and cold calmness. Everyone parted for him, just like the Red Sea.

Yes, everyone feared the great entrepreneur.

Once he reached his office suite on the top floor, his personal assistant was already waiting for him next to the elevators.

"Good morning, Mr. Cullen," she greeted, walking beside him.

"'Morning, Angela. Fill me in," demanded Edward.

"All the schematics for the Motor Company Common Stock project are done. You need to go through them and sign them. You have a meeting with the Russian agents at nine to study the new gears. You need to examine the specifications for the new automobile engine so we can send them to the factory in Italy today. Lunch with the Spanish delegates of the RACE projects. A meeting with the car designers for the Mercury brand at four in the afternoon. You need to go through the documents in the black folder on your desk for the Premier Automotive Group meeting next week. Oh, and all the charts that you requested are on your desk," she rapidly listed as she walked.

"Good. Thanks, Angela. Meet me in my office in five minutes. There's an important guest that you need to prepare for." He dismissed her with a tight smile.

~ϽCN~

Once in his office, he set his briefcase on the wide glass surface of his desk and started to go through the paper piles placed there.

Angela knocked on the door minutes later, and he impassively gave her permission to enter.

"Angela, please let Ms. Hale know that I need her here as soon as possible."

"Of course, Mr. Cullen, anything else?" she asked, writing in her small notebook.

"Yes, we have an important guest today. I want strict orders to the reception area and the head of security that Ms. Isabella Swan will be here at nine this morning. I want her presence to be as low profile as possible and I don't want word to spread around. Do you understand that, Angela?" asked Edward, looking straight into her eyes.

"Of course, sir, I will make sure of it," she replied quickly, cowering under her boss's intimidating emerald gaze.

"All right." He tilted his head towards the door. "Thanks, you can go now," he said, flipping through the paper he had been going through before she entered.

Edward read the charts, his desk chair turned so that he was facing Seattle's horizon from the window behind his desk.

He was on top of the world, ruling it with all his glory from his ivory tower.

His tower's windows were tinted from the outside, a mirror reflecting the whole city on its surface, allowing him to look without the people knowing he existed.

At least, that was what he thought. He knew a lot of people depended on his presence, but the fact that some wanted to end him, in particular, never crossed his mind until he found out that data was disappearing from the secured computer service of his holdings.

The first person who crossed his mind when he discovered this was James Hunter. The man who was always competing with him while he was at Harvard, and who always tried to provoke him.

But Edward never gave so much thought to this "competition" since it was given that he was the victor in every match. He had never stopped laughing in James' face when he used to threaten him with his so-called "power" – actually, Edward never stopped laughing at his face, no matter what the situation was.

For him, Hunter was competing with a master in his game, a master who he would never manage to conquer.

~ϽCN~

"Enter," stated Edward, signing some papers as he heard a knock on the door.

"Hey, Edward, what's up?" greeted the young woman as she entered the office, making herself comfortable in the chair in front of the desk.

"Rosalie, how are you?"

"I'm good, Eddie boy. You didn't request my presence to ask me about my well being, did you?" she teased, grinning.

"I'm going to murder Emmett some day for using that nickname so frequently," he grumbled, glaring at her.

"Yeah, I've heard that before," she muttered nonchalantly. "So tell me…"

"You have a special guest today," said Edward, looking straight in her eyes.

_Oh shit, he means business, _thought Rosalie to herself

"Okay."

"Isabella Swan."

"What? How did you get ahold of her?! I've been trying to get an address or a phone number for a week now!"

"Don't ask, Rose," he shot sternly, running his hand through his hair. "She'll be here in one hour. I _need_ you to prepare all the files. She'll also need a list of 'suspects', and you know who to put there."

"Okay…"

"_And_, this _will_ be a discreet visit. You'll be assisting her, in your office."

Rosalie fidgeted with her hem of her skirt. "Of course, Edward. Anything else?"

"No, that's all."

"Are you going to lunch at your parents' on Friday?" she asked, wide-eyed. "Esme really misses you"

He looked pained for a second before he replied coldly, "I don't think so, Rosalie. Let me know what happens with Ms. Swan."

And with that, he turned back to his papers, dismissing her with a nod.

~ϽCN~

Rosalie wasn't the kind of woman who could be dismissed easily, but with Edward everything was different. They met two years ago, one year after she started dating Emmett and as soon as she finished college.

Despite what others thought, it wasn't her looks or charms that got her the position that she was in at Cullen Holdings; it wasn't even the fact that she was dating Edward's brother. It was her confidence and intellect that got her there. That was why Edward trusted her with this important matter.

She tapped her foot waiting for the elevator to arrive. No matter how confident she was, she dreaded stepping on Edward's wrong side. And she knew that, as soon as she stepped into his office, with Bella's request in mind, she was stepping on the invisible lines that Edward had created in his world.

"You're asking me to give the _security_ video tapes of this building to a stranger, Rosalie?" he inquired, gazing straight into her eyes.

"She's not a stranger, Edward. She's the expert solving your problem," said Rosalie slowly.

"She's a stranger, Rose. No."

"But, Edward—"

"I said no. You're wasting my time."

"I'm not—"

"If you're going to say 'I'm not going to argue' then proceed."

"No. I'm not _leaving your office without you agreeing_."

"Or else?" challenged Edward, raising his eyebrow.

"Or else nothing, Edward! She's been working for hours and you can't even grant her a wish for her peace of mind?" Rosalie challenged back, crossing her arms.

"Her conditions were that her presence would be _low profile _and I granted that. Now please, Rosalie, go find something else to do. I have a meeting here in five minutes and I won't be interrupted, understood?" he said, emphasizing his statement with a pointed look.

"What the-" began Rosalie before she backtracked as soon as she saw Edward's eyes burning with fury and impatience. "Okay, Edward. Have a nice day."

The elevator arrived and Rosalie mechanically traveled down to the tenth floor, where Bella was pacing, waiting for her.

~ϽCN~

"Who do you think you are? You can't barge in, miss. Mr. Cullen's in the middle of a meeting!"

Edward heard Angela's high-pitched voice followed by the echo of high heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

"Well, I'll tell him where he can shove his company and his meeting," shot an angry female voice that he didn't recognize as the door to his office was pushed open, revealing a dark haired woman in all her furious glory.

His eyes locked onto hers, deep mahogany meeting intense emerald.

"I'll call security," squeaked Angela from somewhere behind the Venus standing at the door.

Rosalie pushed her way into the office. "Edward, I'm sorry—"

"Leave, Rosalie," commanded Edward, his hand running through his wild hair. "Let Angela know that she doesn't have to call security."

Turning his head to the man in front of him, he said, "Liam, we'll have to reschedule this meeting. There's a matter I need to take care of."

"Of course, Edward, I'll setup another one with Angela," said the man giving a reassuring smile as he retreated from the room.

Bella stood still at the door, shocked at her own outburst.

"Ms. Swan, I believe?" inquired Edward, bemused with a crooked smirk gracing his lips.

This seemed to shake her from whatever thoughts she was having.

"Mr. Cullen, we need to talk," she stated impassively as she entered the office.

Her hips swayed delicately, which left Edward in a sort of trance, staring. He had always been able to rigidly control himself before this. _Who is this woman?_

"Of course, please have a seat."

"I don't want to sit. I'm here to ask for the video tapes," she shot, raising a perfect eyebrow.

He leaned back on his seat. "I'm afraid that wasn't what we agreed on."

He wore his ivory blank mask, hiding all that coursed through him as he watched this Venus.

She felt an electric sensation caressing her skin as she took in the sight of the man in front of her: an Adonis with all his charms, leaning back on his seat and ruling the world in a bored manner.

His eyes were the most vivid emerald she had ever seen. She didn't dare to look straight into them. She didn't have an answer as to why; was it the fact that she feared getting lost in their depths? Or was it her hesitation towards losing her confidence in front of a man whose presence seemed to strip her of everything she had?

"You _did_ agree to the conditions that Jasper relayed to you."

"I agreed to them," Edward said, smiling smugly. "They consisted of keeping your profile as low as possible."

_Fucking Jasper, I never should've listened to him, _thought Bella.

"And in order to make it happen, I need the videos."

"That won't happen," stated Edward, smirking smugly, which fed Bella's frustration.

"Yes it will, _Mister_ Cullen."

"Ms. Swan, you totally convinced me," he replied laying his hand on his heart, faking innocence. "But I'm afraid to tell you that you're wrong; this is _my _building, and I know what I _can_ or_ can't_ do."

"Listen you smug bastard," she began. "You don't know who I am and what I'm capable of doing. I don't fuck around in my field, and I'm sure you don't fuck around in yours either. You requested my presence here, so you have to stick to my rules." Crossing her arms she said, "I. Want. The. Video. Tapes." Her fury was painting her with all the shades of red, from scarlet to crimson. Her hands were shaking now, her eyes darkening with the challenge she was facing.

And just like thunder, her memories slammed into her mind; she felt her breath coming in short pants and she _knew _that she couldn't break down now.

_Not here Bella_, her inner self warned, _not again._

All her chaos was aching to be conveyed, and she held it back, but she was only human, how much more could she take?

"I can fuck up your system, Mr. Cullen. Don't tempt me," she warned. The venom in her voice shook Edward, but he wasn't this naïve. He couldn't allow himself to let her go easily.

"Listen, I really don't know who you think you are, but whatever you're thinking, I can and _will_ turn you into dust if I have to."

His words were the final stroke on Bella's painting.

_Will turn you into dust if I have to._

She saw her past intruding on her present again, as if it were an old record that wouldn't stop playing, again and again.

_Into dust._

The same word.

_Dust._

Her colors disappeared.

"Please, I can't leave without the video tapes," she whispered, her eyes betraying her, relaying her desperation and her sorrows.

"I said it once and I won't repeat it, Ms. Swan. Thank you for your cooperation. Your expenses are covered but I can't risk the security of my firms by giving you our video tapes," stated Edward, running his hand through his hair.

_Security._

He wanted the woman in front of him, but he held himself back, saying that she was just a woman to him, and he could have anyone he desired; he wouldn't risk his company to grant her request.

His dominating posture left her empty, as if it sucked all the confidence that she held when she entered this tower. _His tower._

She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Again.

She was outraged with the situation, but her shock left her speechless. Again, she lost a battle with herself. She just wanted to help a dear friend and she lost her pride on the way. _Again._

Bella struggled to say something, to fight, to threaten him with her ability to destroy his computer service, to reveal how he asked her to _hack_ through another firm's computer service to the world and create a scandal. But words failed her just like everything else.

Her sight blurred and the room whirled around her, reminding her of her attempts to twirl with her little pink tutu, like a ballerina, when she was a five-year-old. This attempt had ended with her falling and hurting her knees.

Although she felt drained, she refused to submit to the ruins in her. She collected all the confidence she had left and dug in her purse, pulling out the tan envelope Rosalie had given her. The texture felt smooth under her gloved fingers. She threw the envelope on his desk and leaned in so she could look straight into his eyes and said, "You repulse me, Edward Cullen."

She didn't wait to see the wrath and shock register on his features. She turned her back to him and left his office, wiping the traitorous tears from her face.

~ ϽCN ~

She dragged her feet to the glass room, turned on her iPod, retrieved a white canvas and placed it on the easel.

She sat in front of it and stared. The light flickered on its surface, making its ivory texture sparkle, as if it hid something beneath the surface. _Even the white canvas can't bring itself to speak to me._

Her mind had shut down, reducing her to a numb creature. She couldn't bring herself to feel or to think or even to paint. She just sat and stared.

_She shouldn't be alone  
I should've been at home_

She laughed to herself, what irony this song brought, but her empty laugh turned into a grimace and then into a frown. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring herself to understand what happened today.

_Your guns  
Your lies  
Your cigarettes  
Your war_

She turned her face and scowled at the speakers, willing them to explain…

_She kept us safe  
Our hearts were filled with fear_

Her mind still couldn't wrap itself around the events, and she hated it. She hated not understanding; not having enough control over what she went through.

_Your prints left messy stains  
But who was there to clear?_

~ϽCN~

Suddenly, everything in her mind seemed too loud, voices and words fighting in a way that even her attempts to remember her numbers failed to quiet them.

_'I can't risk the security of my firms.' _Her hands went to her head, gripping it.

_'I will turn you into dust if I have to.' _She shook it, willing the voices to just… stop.

_'I need a favor, darling.' _She threw the canvas off the easel.

_'I need you to get through a system.' _Her body shook with sorrowful spasms.

_'Just please do this for me. I'm begging here.' _The room started to spin.

_'__I regret the day you were born.' _The voices suffocated her.

_'__Bella_, _help me!' _They wrapped their cold hands around her throat.

_'__No longer the girl that I held in my womb for nine months.'_Her knees buckled, her legs no longer willing to support her body.

'_Keep living in your silly number-fantasy world.' _She laid her head on the cool marbled floor.

_'__Consider me out.' _And she cried in agony.

_'That's what you crave, you whore, huh?'_ Everything turned black around her, reminding her of the lonesome state she lived in.

~ϽCN~

The sun set and its light created the most mesmerizing colors. She saw the light play with the shadows of the room while her head was still laying on the floor.

Her outburst was draining. She hadn't experienced a similar panic attack for a while now. Once she felt that she regained some control over her body, she pulled herself up.

Bella stared at all that surrounded her, but she still couldn't register what was happening. Numbly, she made her way to the living room and lit a cigarette, the burning that accompanied each drag calming her somehow, sedating her.

She heard a barely audible, yet familiar, sound but she still couldn't place its source. She placed her cigarette in the ashtray, disbelief painting her features. Hearing it twice, she realized it was the doorbell ringing.

Bella didn't want to answer it. She didn't want to see anyone. She was even confused that someone was at her door. People rarely came to visit her, but somehow, this ringing hypnotized her. The sound lured her to the door, curious to see who the mysterious person was.

Lifelessly, she walked to the door of her apartment and opened it.

_He_ was the one standing outside, his emerald eyes sharply meeting hers. And she was shocked, as if an invisible force restrained and paralyzed her.

"Ms. Swan, we need to talk."

~ϽCN~

* * *

**A/N: Some Fireworks in the next chapter.  
Review!  
**


	4. Chapter 3 - Emerald

**_Disclaimer: Only one writer is making the money off Twilight,__and that's Stephenie Meyer. These are her characters, and I'm just having fun with them while adding some colors and numbers._**

**WARNING:  
Description of rape. For those who are sensitive to this subject, the part of this chapter that deals with rape is in italic. And for those who are REALLY sensitive, this story isn't for you... It's rated M for many many reasons...**

* * *

~ ϽCN ~

**Colors and Numbers – Chapter 3 – Emerald**

"Heavenly beauties, their faces adorned with emeralds, tried to entice me with sensual gestures of love - seeing these, I might go astray and forget you, and your name would not enter into my mind."—Sri Guru Granth Sahib

~ ϽCN ~

He was sitting at his desk, and deep—mahogany circled with onyx—eyes stared back at him. He felt her gaze stripping him of his mask of nonchalance, and that made him back off. It made him want to submit to her charms that lured him when she first entered his office.

After a heated argument, he opened his mouth to say the words and submit to her request, but she was faster. He saw a flash of a tan-looking object before it hit the desk right in front of him. With that, the mahogany was no longer calm; it was burning and boiling—he felt her fury as if it was his own.

Edward began to reach out to touch her, and make sure that the Venus in front of him was not an illusion, but she was, yet again, faster. She said the words that he had heard many times before, words that no longer held a meaning to him.

"You repulse me, Edward Cullen," she spat as she stormed off.

Coming from her, these words hit him like a lightning bolt. They cut deep and touched old wounds. So he froze, shocked because he couldn't comprehend what happened. He promised to keep this woman's visit as low profile as possible, because that's what Jasper asked, and he kept his promise, but she wasn't satisfied.

He opened the tan envelope that Isabella had left him and found out that she had given his money back.

Slowly, the shock wore off, and anger took its place. Just like a gemstone, his wrath toward this woman shone with shattering colors, and with it came determination.

He placed the envelope in his drawer and took hold of the signed documents that were on his desk. On his way out of the office, he stopped by Angela's desk and handed them to her.

"These are the signed schematics for the Motor Company Common Stock project. I'm heading to Rover's for the lunch meeting."

"Sure, Mr. Cullen."

He gracefully made his way to the elevators, but stopped abruptly.

"Oh, and Angela?" he said, looking straight into her eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Cullen?" squeaked Angela, intimidated.

"I want all the original tapes of the videos showing Ms. Swan. Make sure you put them on my desk before I arrive."

"Of course, Mr. Cullen."

~ ϽCN ~

"Hello, Jasper," greeted Edward as soon as his friend answered the phone.

"Hey, Edward. What's up? Did everything go well today?"

"Yeah, it went smoothly. Thanks again for your help," Edward said as he sat back on the armchair in his office.

"Anytime, man. I'm glad I made a difference."

"Yeah, well," began Edward as he ran his hand through his hair. "I needed to ask you about Ms. Swan's address. She forgot something here and I would like to send it back to her."

"I don't know about that, Edward. Bella won't like it if I gave you her address," he replied hesitantly.

"Oh, all right. Then just stop by today and I'll give it to you. You can deliver it yourself, if that's what you want." He was trying to get Jasper to cooperate; he wanted the address, and Jasper was the only person who could provide it.

"Actually, I'm heading out of town tomorrow morning, so that—"

"Then just give me the address," he interrupted him smugly. "I'll take it to her myself if it makes it easier for you."

"All right, all right…write it down…"

~ ϽCN ~

"Sir, we're here," said Garret, interrupting Edward from his stream of consciousness.

"Thanks, Garret."

He made his way out of the car to the front door of the modern house. The place held a mysterious aura—turquoise veil curtains shielded the view behind all the glass walls—and the house swam in a mystical darkness, making him doubt that she was in there, but he had to see her.

He had rung the doorbell—twice—before he heard footsteps nearing. He felt the electric sensation that came with her presence caressing his skin as she got closer to him.

She opened the door and froze in place. His gaze roamed her figure; she was still in her little black dress, but it was all crumpled and hung off her body. Her raven black hair was disheveled. Her ivory skin was even paler. And when his eyes locked with hers, he was taken aback by the chaos that he found in there; her warm-colored eyes were bloodshot, her brows were knitted, and her full lips pursed, the red lipstick fading away.

He had the urge to bring his hand to her face and caress her cheek, just to erase the thoughts that tormented her with his touch. It was as if the darkness that he saw in her eyes lured him to fix whatever was broken inside her, but he held himself back since he was shocked by the whirlwind of feelings that coursed through him.

_Is it me? _He thought to himself. _Did I cause this hurt?_

Shaking his head as if to get rid of this plethora of emotions that she caused, he, once again, shielded himself behind a mask of blankness before he stated firmly, "Ms. Swan, we need to talk."

His words seemed to snap her out of her daze, intensifying the chaos that surrounded her. Her fist clenched beside her.

"How dare you come to me, Cullen. What the fuck are you doing here?" she hissed, her voice full of venom.

"As I said, Ms. Swan, we need to talk." He was calm—too calm.

"Now you _need to talk_, Mr. Cullen? Who do you think you are? You think you can just waltz into anyone's life after the shit you give them?"

"I'm Edward Cullen, sweetheart, and I will do whatever I think is best." He smirked cockily. "Now would you rather we finish our talk here on the porch or somewhere more private?" inquired Edward, raising his eyebrow challengingly, his features otherwise empty again.

"What makes you think I want to _talk_, oh almighty _Edward Cullen_?"

"Listen, Ms. Swan, I really don't have much time to waste over this—"

"Then fucking _leave,_" she spat, resenting the captivating emerald green of his eyes.

He hated to be interrupted; his hands fisted beside him, holding the envelope tightly. "I'm a direct man, Swan. I came here to make amends and give you what you asked for."

His words left her speechless; she thought he was here to humiliate her even more. She stared at him, and he looked deeply into her eyes. He saw a woman broken beyond repair…he saw despair over her existence, disgust, and hopelessness. His demons were long forgotten when her gaze met his. He just itched to fix whatever broke the Venus in front of him, because again, he was Edward Cullen and that is what he did for a living: fixing and building complex mechanisms.

"You can come in." She hid her feelings behind her cold tone, and walked back into her house, turning on the lights as she headed to the living room.

The color of the walls reflected the dim light and gave the space such a mystical aura, heavy with the electric sensation increasing between the two broken souls there.

"Please, sit." Bella gestured to the zebra printed sofa.

Bella ran her hand through her hair, biting her lower lip as she sat on the turquoise leather armchair in front of Edward.

He looked around him, the aura of the room mesmerizing him. Candles were covering every surface visible: the low glass table centering the wildly colored couches, the side tables, the corners of the room, _everywhere_. The walls were painted in a shade of ecru and oddly limited by a black wooden frame. They were bare except for the one in front of him, which was covered by the portrait of a woman with haunted blue eyes; it was as if the painting was just an outline, but her eyes and lips were so detailed, and…and it just screamed…'tortured soul.'

_Who is the tortured artist?_ he thought to himself.

The silence between them added another layer to the heaviness that surrounded them. No one was willing to break this silence; they were just masochistic beings that fed on their own misery and their permanently numb state.

"Do you want-"

"I got you the-"

They blurted at the same time. Edward ran his head through his hair as he locked his eyes with hers.

"I got you the tapes that you asked for, and the money that you left." He stretched out his hand, willing her to take the tan envelope. She just stared at it without moving. Her hands were shaking; if she got up, she was sure that her feet wouldn't hold her.

As if he read her mind, he stood up and walked toward her. She felt intimidated by his height. He looked like a Greek god giving his followers the repentance that they sought, but she refused to conform. She refused to let him lead this situation, whatever it was. She stood up and looked impassively into his eyes.

"I don't want your money, Cullen. You can buy whoever you want, but you can't buy me—_ever_."

He tensed his jaw. "I'm not here to buy anything, Swan," he spat. "I'm here to give you _your _money back. If I wanted to buy you, I would've done it the minute I saw you."

His words hit her like a lightning bolt. She took a step back.

"You can't buy me, Cullen." She choked as he took a step toward her; she was trying so hard to get hold of the invisible shield that protected her.

"Again, Swan. You can't tell me what I can or can't do." He took another step toward her.

"You can't talk to people like that."

As she took a step back, she felt her knees bucking under her.

He took another step forward, never breaking her gaze.

She saw shades of emerald so intense that she wouldn't even allow her eyes to blink. A green maze seducing her to approach it, even though she knew she would lose herself if she ever dared to come near this man.

She sensed her defenses crumble in front of this stranger who, she thought, didn't even treat her as a person, but as another territory that he needed to conquer.

"I can talk in any way that pleases _me_, Isabella."

_Isabella._ The name made her cringe.

She took another step back. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that she was just a couple of steps away from the wall, and if they continued this tango, she'd be trapped in her own home, her sanctuary.

"What do you want from me?" She felt so fragile in front of him. Her shield seemed to be consumed by the nothingness when she was around this man.

He approached her like a predator, his steps slow and fierce. He eyed her with a lustful, yet calculating, gaze. Letting go of his restraints, he took in the wild raven of her hair that fell to her waist, the soft curves of her hips, the cream blaze of her skin, the delicate curl of her hand fidgeting with her Victorian locket, the tender arch of her neck, the strained purse of her deep colored lips, the edge of her high cheekbones, the shadows under her eyes. He let go of himself and truly looked at her.

"I don't want anything from you."

She took a step back. They seemed to be moving in synch. To any outsider, it would've seemed like they were stepping around in choreographed moves.

"I don't believe you." Her voice was barely audible. She was looking everywhere but at him.

"You don't?" A crooked smug smile drew itself on his lips. He was faking innocence and she knew it.

"Please, stop this." Distress was written all over her, yet he ignored it. He knew that she felt whatever he was feeling; this static warmth that he couldn't put a name on. He continued his calculated steps, seeking her.

"Stop what, Isabella?"

"This!" she almost shouted, using all the strength and resolve left in her, but it was too late. The step back that she took trapped her between him and the wall. Her eyes roamed everywhere, looking for an escape. Her breaths became labored, and she felt the room closing in on her. It was painful, tormenting.

He looked at her, and for the first time he saw lost fragments of a woman. He saw pieces of a fragile being. He stripped her of her mask. He cracked the shell that she had become. This softened the monstrous predator that was unleashed in him. He ran his hand in his hair and took a hesitant step toward her.

"I never apologize, Isabella, but, right now, I _am_ sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Confusion was written all over her face; her brows furrowed, her lips pursed as she stared at the spot behind his left shoulder, not being able to bring herself to look at him in the eye.

"For our argument before…in my office." He trailed his finger along her jawline and over her clavicle as he watched her face carefully, registering the decrease of stiffness in her posture.

"What do you want from me?" She whimpered. She was scared; the warmth of the desire she felt for this man scared her. She felt safe—_that_ terrified her.

"I already told you…I don't want a _particular_ thing from you."

"You— you're lying! Then why are you still here?" She finally found what little courage that she had left and looked at him, straight in the eyes.

He was so close to her that she could smell him; the synesthetic in her found his scent of astonishing freshness with an emerald leafy color. It was as if she was surrounded by an aura of transparent, aromatic, woody nature.

So close that she could feel the heat that accompanied his inhales and exhales, pure warmth enveloping her.

So close that she couldn't escape from that emerald gaze of his, so soothing and offering her a sense of renewal. But at the same time, it was hypnotizing; as if all the relaxation that his look offered was just painting the predator behind it all in a luminous, harmonious language.

He reached for her, trailing the back of his hand down the side of her face. He cupped her cheek, and, as if by instinct, she leaned into him. When their skin met, both of them couldn't deny the lustfulness that somehow connected them.

The air was thick with an electric buzz. She didn't allow her gaze to meet his; she looked straight in front of her, but she was met by him—he was _surrounded _by him. She dared to break their eye contact. Her eyes roamed his broad shoulders and his toned chest, recognizable even through the fabric of his dress shirt. She had this urge to trail her hand up his chest, to feel his heart beat against her skin, powerful and strong, but she held herself back.

_I'm not falling into this temptation_, she thought to herself.

His hand found its way down her face. He held her chin between his fingers and tugged gently, forcing her to look into his eyes.

He met the most melancholic mahogany pools. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears and swollen with all the ones that she shed before he arrived.

He touched her cheek with his lips so softly.

She felt his warm and alluring breath over her skin, felt the roughness of this stubble caressing her cheek. And she let herself go; she allowed herself to get lost in this man.

"I am here because I want you, _all_ of you, Isabella," he whispered to her, his lips brushing her ear softly.

His hand wrapped itself around her delicate jaw, and as if by instinct, his lips found hers. He bit her lower lip; he had fantasized about doing so ever since she entered his office, chewing on it nervously.

She surrendered herself to the safety that she felt in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. She felt as if this powerful, arrogant man held her repentance and her comfort, but also her ultimate destruction, all at once.

He pushed her roughly against the wall and brought his body to hers. His free hand trailed up her waist, feeling her delicate curves.

They weren't kissing; they were devouring each other, as if they were lost souls finding the purpose behind their existence after roaming through the nothingness for ages.

Their breathing became heavy, but they couldn't bring themselves to stop. She felt his hardness pushing into her stomach, and she moaned, thinking about the effect she had on him.

Her hand fisted his bronze locks, and she dared to look straight into his eyes with her heavy lidded ones. What she saw hypnotized her; emerald darkened with lust looked back at her, and for the first time she saw that behind his arrogant façade laid the fragments of a man, a person shattered fighting dark demons on his own.

"Lead us to your bedroom, Isabella," he whispered in a voice thick with lust. "Or maybe I'll just take you here and now."

She froze in her place; his words awakening a stream of memories that she didn't want to remember.

~ ϽCN ~_Flashback_~ ϽCN ~

_She felt her head bang against the headboard as she was thrown roughly on the bed._

"_Yes, I will take you _here and now_, in _this _bedroom, you sick whore, whether you like it or not."_

_She felt his long, dark hair sweep disgustingly along her skin as he tore her shirt._

"_No… please, not again, please." She whimpered. She tried fighting him. She pushed at his chest, clawed at his skin with her barely there finger nails, but she was rewarded with slaps and kicks._

"_Keep quiet, Isabella, because you are mine to use as I want. This brain is mine," he said, venom oozing out of him as he pressed his fingers hard on her temples. He was hurting her._

"_And this body is also mine." His rough hands roamed her body. He was nauseating her. She felt bile rise from her stomach, but she swallowed the acidic substance; she couldn't risk letting her body react to him by vomiting. Not again, because she _knew_ what he would do then._

_She heard a click; it was the all familiar sign of the video camera being set._

"_No… NO! Please… Plea—"_

_He shut her up with a slap and covered her mouth with his hand._

_The sight of them would repulse any outsider, an old man hovering over a barely developed teen. Everyone in the house was used to what was happening. They all had seen them before. They all heard them even now. They had all taken her in the same way, at some point before. No one tried to save her; they enjoyed her struggle and the cries of considered her a toy; a cheap, enjoyable toy—oh, and enjoy her they did. _

_He pushed his hardness into her, moaning and groaning, bathing in her tortured reactions to him. He knew that she was in pain, and it lit him from within. Sadistic was one on his many sides._

_She wanted to screech, to scream_, _and to cry in despair. She moved her head from side to side, her hands pushing him back. But nothing changed; he was there moving back and forth, and she knew that it was going to get worse. So she let the numbness take over. She stopped fighting him because it wouldn't get her anywhere._

"_Yes…_ _always such a good little slut, my Isabella."_

_With that, she let the darkness take over._

~ ϽCN ~

Bella pushed hard on Edward's chest.

"No!" she screamed, her mind still in that dark bedroom. She could smell _his_ repulsing scent and see the cracks on the ceiling as _he_ hovered over her.

"No!" she wailed again. She wrapped her arm around her chest, her long black nails leaving scratches on her shoulder. Her eyes were shut tight, as if she was willing the visions to stop.

Edward stood back, shocked. He was staring wide-eyed at her, not understanding what had just happened.

He couldn't recognize his Venus anymore, and he wondered if he made her up. All he saw was a broken girl, pushing her back against the wall as if it had the ability to just swallow her, banging her head in a rhythmic movement, scrunching her eyes, screaming as if in agony.

Her body was shaking and the tears that she was shedding left messy trails down her cheeks. That's when he realized that she was having a panic attack, and a severe one.

She heard a gentle voice cutting through the hurricane that had taken over her.

She felt a touch accompanied by a warm static feeling that was foreign and all too familiar at the same time.

She recoiled from it. But she felt it again.

It calmed her. It was warm and safe.

So she stopped fighting it. But still, she surrendered to the darkness that took over her senses.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Thanks for reading, please leave me a review of what you think of this chapter (:**

**I was supposed to start posting again, like 3 weeks ago, since I finished writing and editing the story AND its sequel... But my laptop decided to crash and I couldn't save any chapter of the story (or its sequel)... It was THE only thing that magically disappeared from my external hard drive... So yeah, I'm rewriting everything... So, I don't know when I will be posting again; I want to finish rewriting the story before I start posting again... It might take a month or two or 6 or 9... I really don't know... But I will be continuing it...**


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